Three Sides
by lady-harker
Summary: They'd found Cibola, Abigail and Ben were back together and Riley had just been asked to sign a copy of his book by a beautiful young woman. Everything had worked out and was where it should be. They ought to have known it wouldn't last very long...
1. Riley

**Disclaimer:** The normal storyline ain't mine and neither are any of the characters I use. If they were there would be no way that National Treasure would be suitable for under-15s at best.

**A/N:** Personally I thought there were too many times that they set up Riley for getting hurt or for there to be Riley/Ben friendship angst and they just chickened out of each one so this is an idea I got that keeps the same storyline but is just a short continuation of the last scene at Mount Rushmore. Now please don't get the wrong idea about my approach to Riley, I love the guy but it just wouldn't work any way. Also, a short heads up that this will only be a three-shot (was originally gonna be a one-shot but one just wasn't enough).

**Three Sides: Side One**

**Riley**

Riley looked mournfully at his milkshake in one hand and his bag of Mount Rushmore souvenirs in the other as he strolled through the crowd of history enthusiasts gathered to celebrate the discovery of Cibola who mingled with the normal Rushmore tourists. They'd found the city of gold _and_ they were all still alive; he should have been happy but he knew that whatever new discovery they'd made, things would just end up going back to the way they were, he'd revert back to the unrecognised 'assistant' of the 'glorious' Benjamin Gates.

"Excuse me." A red-haired girl gently pulled on his arm as he passed and turned him round until they were facing each other. "Hey, you're that guy… The treasure hunter guy right?"

Her face was filled with excitement and Riley sighed. Another one of Ben's fangirls.

"No, actually, the guy you're thinking of is somewhere over there." He turned and indicated over towards where he knew Ben and Abigail were. What he wouldn't give for one of these girls to be after him for once.

"No." She smiled and shook her head while Riley watched dumbfounded as she pulled out a copy of The Templar Treasure. "You're him. Riley Poole. I recognise you from your book." He looked up at her. Was this girl for real? "Will you sign it?"

Riley's souvenirs instantly crashed to the floor in his surprise. Was this really happening? Something inside the bag smashed upon impact with the ground but he didn't care.

"Okay." she smiled shyly at him and he couldn't help but return it. "Who's it for?"

"I'm Candice."

"Candice." Signing on the front page was amazing and he took pride in the action. There was no knowing when he'd be asked to do this again. "That's a lovely name." she giggled timidly and peered up at him through her hair. "Here." Their hands touched for a moment as he handed back her book and after a small awkward moment she stuttered her thanks before moving on.

Looking after her and picking up his bag of souvenirs, Riley truly felt that he might have been wrong earlier. Maybe, just maybe, he could be more than he had been before this whole Cibola thing.

"Oh no." the Rushmore mug he'd bought was now in two large and one small piece after its sudden meeting with the ground. "That's seven dollars I'll never see again.

"My heart bleeds for you."

The souvenirs fell to the floor again as Riley spun round and found himself face to face with the blond guy the British voice matched.

"Ian?" Not good. So not good. "Fancy seeing you here. Shouldn't you be-"

"In prison?" he wasn't smiling and neither was Riley.

"Yeah." He swallowed.

Ian had made more than clear during their search for the Charlotte that he didn't much care for Riley's methods, or his humour, or his appearance, or his general existence. Thinking about it, Riley would probably have been dead a hundred times over during the search if not for Ben's high recommendations and protection.

"So…how ya been?"

"In prison."

There wasn't any way this could end well, Riley knew this, but this guy had threatened to kill him ten times before the Charlotte betrayal and then actually pointed a gun at him at least two more times during the actual hunt for the treasure; besides Ben was the one who thought on his feet and got him out of situations like this.

"And yourself?" Ian's face didn't change as he spoke, stuck, seemingly permanently, in a scowl.

"Not bad." Nodding nervously, he saw Ben and Abigail in the distance over Ian's shoulder. If he could somehow signal them without Ian noticing.

"How'd my treasure work out for you?"

"Well…" Riley debated internally whether or not there was an answer to that question which wouldn't get him severely beaten up. "Actually…"

"I hear you have a book. What's it called? How to be useless?" Riley slowly backed away, panicking slightly as Ian stepped forward to keep the distance the same. "How to be taken for granted?"

"Ben!" His voice cracked as he yelled. He didn't expect Ben to hear he was so far away. Ian's taunting was as much a smack in the gut as he remembered; just like old times. "BEN!"

"How to be a second rate sidekick?"

"BE-!" the cry was stopped as Ian smashed his jaw with a left hook.

The floor rushed up to meet Riley and he smacked into it with a deafening CRACK! At least it was deafening for him, reverberating around his head which was bursting with pain. People were scattering away from him; he watched their feet momentarily as they ran from the fight that was surely escalating. Screams filled the air as they escaped and every fibre of Riley's being ached to be able to join them but he could only lay there on his stomach, winded and unable, or was it unwilling, to move. His left cheek was stinging like crazy and although he couldn't see figured it was probably grazed, not too badly but enough to hurt.

There was blood in his mouth; his blood. It tasted bitter and metallic and all sorts of wrong. He spat it out onto the floor beside him and pushed himself up onto his knees.

"Get up!" The scruff of his neck was seized and he was dragged up until he was standing. Ian turned him so they were facing each other again. The smile growing on the blond's face was not spelling happy times ahead for Mr. Poole. "You were always weak."

Smack!

Contact with Ian's right fist was more painful than the first one as it smashed into his already grazed cheek and opened a fresh wound by his ear. More pain exploded and his head began to swim. The people around him were starting to blur slightly and thinking straight was becoming a bit more difficult than he believed was healthy, but he still had enough wits about him to know he wasn't out of the woods yet.

Air was forced out of his lungs as he landed flat on his back which he managed to translate into a cry of pain.

Blood started to accumulate in his mouth and he began choking as it followed the rule of gravity, dripping to the back of his throat.

Choking on his own blood was not something he wanted to do, it would result it pain and death. So he started to panic which just made him choke more which made him panic more. It was a vicious circle and Riley wished someone would break it.

Almost instantly he regretted that thought as a boot made contact with his jaw knocking him onto his side. He spat the blood out onto the floor again and heard a nearby woman gasp in horror.

"What's the matter, Riley? Nothing clever to say?" each word was laden with smugness. Each of them was saying 'where's Ben now?' "No insulting jibes? No witty comebacks?"

"I knew if you worked on those people skills…" he croaked but couldn't finish the sarcastic comment; his jaw was aching and telling him he shouldn't even be thinking about trying to talk but he refused to be silent just because Mr Blond British Moron punched and kicked him a couple of times.

Alright, he was in a fairly large amount of pain and this was the closest he'd come to being beaten up by someone since High School but he wasn't the naïve, weak, dorky, geeky kid that Ian and Ben had found in that blocked off, windowless, solitary cubicle however long ago it was now. He'd changed; not always for the better, he didn't use to shoot his mouth off so much which meant he got into less trouble back then, but Ian still thought of him as the kid who had jumped at the corpse and flinched from the gun all that time ago on the Charlotte.

Truthfully, he would probably be freaked out by the nasty remains now, and he certainly didn't disagree with someone who held him at gunpoint, but the point was Riley had grown. Well, emotionally at any rate; he still had the physique of a naïve, weak, dorky, geeky kid who spent too much time in front of the computer screen and not enough in the real world.

There was an onimous click and Riley tried not to give away the increasing fear that was building up in his chest. Of course he had a gun. He couldn't just leave it at a humiliating pummelling and be done with it; no he had to go and point a gun at him. He swore it was Ian's favourite past time. 'I say, chaps, I'm a bit bored what. How about I point a gun at that young Mr. Poole to pass the time? Why yes, I feel infinitely more interested and not a bit bored what.' Bloody British idiot!

"I told Ben you were a waste of time."

"You were wrong."

Afraid to open his eyes, Riley peered through his lashes and glimpsed Ben stood a short way away from them. Upon seeing his friend, his eyes widened and confidence soared. Ben was stood with the confidence that he always seemed to have when things started going wrong. Hell, it was the same determination that had convinced him that stealing the Declaration of Independence was not only possible but necessary for the good of the country.

"Hello Ben." Ian's smugness was undeterred by Ben's arrival which bashed down Riley's confidence somewhat.

"Ian." There was an awful tension in the air which caused an uneasy feeling to take root in Riley's stomach. "You okay Riley?"

As he opened his mouth to respond, a foot kicked Riley hard in the small of his back forcing his words to be lost in a cry of pain.

"Goddamit Ian!" Ben shouted.

"Heard you found a new treasure." Riley groaned.

Breathing was laboured, his lungs kept constricting when he tried to take anything that vaguely resembled an attempt to take a deep refreshing breath. Trouble was all his organs and muscles and slowly developing wounds were screaming for oxygen as he lay there. Muscles that he didn't know he had were aching horribly. One thing was for sure; he'd have _loads _of fun getting out of bed tomorrow.

Overall, he concluded, it could be a hell of a lot worse. There weren't any injuries that wouldn't heal after a few days, maybe weeks, of rest and recuperation; and he was still alive, wasn't he? He would have signalled this to Ben if he could but knew that if he let out so much as a squeak that could be interpreted as 'I'm fine', Ian would feel more than obliged to 'correct' that fact.

His shirt was grabbed again and he was hoisted to his feet. Thankfully his legs weren't really damaged and he was able to hold himself up, not that he had much choice about falling down with Ian holding him up by the scruff of his neck.

"And what's to stop me from shooting him?" Ian's gun was roughly force into Riley's temple as he realised that while doing his injury assessment Ben and Ian had continued talking…discussing…arguing? Whatever it was they were doing. "What's to stop me putting a bullet through his head right here?"

"Leave Riley out of this."

"Why, Ben? You're the one who brought him into this. You the reason he's here today." Riley watched as everything about Ben changed before his eyes.

Ben was scared. Everything about him started screaming it, his voice, his manner, his posture; he stopped standing up straight looking to the world to be filled with confidence and bravado, and began to hunch up and reach out pleadingly with his arms.

"Just let him go, Ian."

"What you gonna do Ben?" Ian's tease hissed into Riley's ear and the boy flinched.

Seeing Ben looking so helpless was discomforting. Before, he hadn't looked like this because he'd been able to do something to stop something like this escalating.

When Patrick had been kidnapped, Ben could do as he was told to ensure his father's safety.

When Ian had threatened to kill them all, Ben had given him a fake clue to get him out of the way.

When Mitch had attacked Abigail in Cibola, Ben had agreed to be left behind in order for everyone to get out safe.

Riley groaned and bent double as Ian slammed him in the stomach with his gun.

"Riley!" He heard Ben's cry as if through a window; vague, misty and distant.

He wanted this to be over. He wanted to curl up on the floor and just let the pain wash over him. He wanted Ben to end this but Ben didn't know what to do. The thought kept going round and round in his head, taking every bit of fight he had left in him.

_It means if there's something wrong those with the ability to take action have the responsibility to take action._

Ben's words from all that time ago pushed forward to the forefront of his memory. His own reasoning escaped him but at this memory Riley knew what he had to do.

Riley snapped straight up, hoping against all odds that he'd hit the smarmy git's nose as he threw all his force behind it. There was a crunch and a curse as he found his target causing Ian to lose his grip. Ben reached out to Riley and beckoned to him to run towards him. Of course, Riley was all too happy to oblige.

A shot went off and pain exploded in Riley's gut.

Immediately his legs gave way and the floor rushed up to greet him for the third time. Two arms reached out to catch him too late as he fell forward onto the floor with a painful thud. Instantly the arms were wrapped around his torso, turned him over and lifted him partially from the ground. He couldn't see who they belonged to, his vision was swimming with the combination of sudden blood loss, possible concussion and the tears rapidly forming at the corners of his eyes.

"Aah!" His hands had shot to where the pain was amassing and his cry was more from the amount of blood he could feel gushing over his hands than the increase of pain that ran through his torso at the touch.

He'd been shot.

"No, Riley!" Ben sounded like he was going to cry as he grabbed Riley's wrists and twisted them away from the wound. "Leave it! You'll just make it worse!"

Riley struggled against Ben's grip, desperate to get the blood off his hands, or to grasp at his side or do something; anything. His panic was growing.

He'd been shot.

He'd been _shot_. From behind.

But his hands were dripping with blood, too much blood, and he'd grasped at his _front_.

"The bullet…" he gasped, feeling the onset of a panic attack as he realised what had happened. "Bullet went through…"

"You're gonna be fine."

"Such…" he laughed weakly, "a bad liar, Ben."

Ian had _shot_ him.

"Aah!" his breaths were coming in gasps now, his lungs somewhat unwilling to function properly. "Ben!"

"I'm here! I'm right here."

The pain wasn't going away; of course it wasn't going away he'd been _shot_. Great, he was already starting to lose rational thought processes and the pain was getting worse. This would have to happen to him.

"Look at me, Riley!" It was an order and as Riley looked up he could see the blurry outline of what he presumed was Ben above him. "You're gonna be fine."

"Yeah." he croaked. "And there isn't really a map on the back of the Declaration of Independence."

There was a lot of screaming and shuffling about going on around him but Riley couldn't discern anything anymore; the pain was all he felt. Ben's blurry outline was beginning to get even blurrier; all that was really visible now was some sort of shape above him.

"Ben." He didn't have the energy to shout or scream anymore, didn't even have the energy to fight Ben, didn't know what to say or think; there was just the unbearable pain and the growing exhaustion in his entire body.

"Riley!" someone tapped quite harshly on his grazed cheek but he just couldn't muster the energy to keep his eyes open. "Stay with me! Come on, Riley!"

His legs, which he hadn't even realised were flailing, were the first to stop moving. Then his arms slowly lost their strength, which Ben obviously noticed as he released Riley's wrists. One by one, every muscle in his body was starting to relax as he continued to bleed and he felt Ben's grip tighten round his chest in panic.

"Come on! Stay with me buddy!"

"Ben…"

"You just gotta stay awake." Ben was pleading with him, his voice strained but however much he wanted to, Riley was too far gone to be able to try; still Ben kept saying it over and over again. Each repetition of it caused Riley emotional pain on top of the physical. He'd never heard Ben sound so desperate or helpless ever, not when even when him and Abigail had lost the Declaration of Independence to Ian.

"Open your eyes, Riley! Look at me!"

Ben's order was the last thing Riley heard before he finally lost consciousness.


	2. Ian

**Disclaimer:**If I owned National Treasure I would have made Ian a scouser (don't ask why). Since he isn't I obviously don't.

**A/N:**I've been reading Riley angst fics since before even I saw the movies and I know that if you don't get death-threat-reviews then you're doing something seriously wrong. Seriously chuffed with the response and was REALLY shocked to find reviews from authors of some of my fav National Treasure stories. Writing Riley was pretty easy because I am very Riley-esque and Ian isn't too difficult because I'm blond and British ¦D; it's the next bit that's got me worried, so it will take a fair while but believe me it will come within a week max! Now this side (not chapter; side) might not be what you were expecting but this is how I've planned it all along, but don't let this make you think I won't extend beyond the end for the next side because it involves Ben a lot more and it will (hopefully) be around twice as long as this one, another reason it will be a while (I wrote this in two days. Same for the first side). So any questions please let me know because if there's a loose end that I haven't picked up on I want to know so I can factor it into the last part of this; yes folks, I meant it when I said it's a three-shot. I would say enjoy but I'm not that cruel.

**Three Sides: Side Two**

**Ian**

Ian gazed round at the crowd sipping absent-mindedly at his drink. People were mingling all around him, talking about different kinds of stupid American things; tourists snapping ridiculous pictures for souvenirs, parents telling children to pay attention right now and stop messing about, couples cooing over each other; none of them, except perhaps some of the history enthusiasts he recognised among them, having the faintest notion of the magnificent discovery that sat behind all their heads.

Cibola, the city of gold, was sat somewhere behind Mount Rushmore being collected and catalogued and preserved by some group of people who were into that sort of thing. Before, all that history had just sat there waiting to be…restored to the world. It was only natural that it would engage the curiosity of 'treasure protector' Benjamin Gates.

He closed his eyes. Just thinking about that goddam idiot made his blood boil.

Kidnap, attempted murder and trespassing on government property.

Trespassing was piss-easy; basic criminal behaviour, breaking and entering, stealing, those kinds of things. He'd done kidnap before too, was nothing new for him; it was a difficult thing to do and a quick way of drawing attention to yourself if you didn't do it carefully. Attempted murder, he'd come close; GBH and ABH but never anything with an aim to kill, he wasn't that much of a monster no matter what anyone thought.

A drunken tourist knocked into him as he passed by and blurted out a very slurred apology. Why, wherever he went, was there always at least one drunk American?

Being in prison had been nothing new to Ian, you don't commit crimes without getting your hands dirty, and escaping and evading the police wasn't exactly a challenge for the mind, but it was the whys and the wherefores of the whole affair that were really annoying him. Specifically, it was the historian involved in his incarceration who was stood less than a hundred yards away from him.

Ben was trying to move through the crowd, stopped every few moments by someone who would talk to him excitedly before allowing him on his way.

"Oh come on, Ben." He muttered as Ben anxiously fended off another elderly couple. "Don't act like you don't love it."

Within moments he was out of view and Ian was, again, left wondering why he'd come here.

If there was anywhere he was going to get caught it would be where Ben Gates was. No doubt Ben's pet FBI agent would be around somewhere keeping an eye out for suspicious characters such as himself and there was only so much time before someone was sure to notice him. Besides, seeing Ben enjoying the spoils of the treasure that ought to have been lining Ian's pockets only made him feel humiliated.

When Ian had told Ben he could get the Declaration of Independence he'd had every intention of letting Ben use the treasure to clear his family's much-less-than-reputable name in the historical community, but no, Ben was all for being noble and not stealing the Declaration; then the bugger went and stole it himself using clever tricks thought up by that annoying techno-geek, Riley.

"What am I doing here?" He threw his drink to the ground in frustration earning himself a few nervous glances from those around him.

"Scuse me." An annoyingly familiar grating voice travelled across the heads of the crowd towards him and he looked up. "Pardon me."

Barely twelve feet in front of him the crowd was shifting about to get out of the way of a familiar dark-haired man carrying a large bag that had some dorky Mount Rushmore flags sticking out the top. Typical Riley.

"Whoa!" The drunken wandering American had bumped into the kid, nearly knocking him over but Riley just smiled with a nervous laugh. "Careful, I need that."

Ben he could understand, Ben he held some respect for even now, but the one thing Ian had never understood and probably never would, was what exactly Ben saw in Riley.

Alright so he'd been useful for finding the Charlotte but even after that Ben had kept Riley on, involving him in everything, even this latest escapade. There was no way on Earth that an idiot with an ability for computer wizardry such as Riley was _that_ useful.

Riley was…unbearable. Even when he wore a suit the kid put on high-top converses which he seemed to have an endless supply of; he was never able to take anything seriously; he couldn't go more than five minutes without making a sarcastic comment; he NEVER showed Ian any respect. Riley Poole was a child, immature and always afraid with stupid superstitions and crazy notions most of which he'd put into that ridiculous book of his.

Unfortunately for Ian, the prison library hadn't been well stocked and he'd had the displeasure of reading The Templar Treasure and other conspiracies that are true; filled with the biggest pile of bullshit ever put on paper.

"Hey, you're that guy… The treasure hunter guy right?"

Riley seemed upset which didn't make sense. He was being spoken to by a beautiful young lady; surely this was Riley's idea of heaven.

A smile crept across Ian's lips as he saw the kid gesture over towards the direction Ben had gone off in. "Getting sick of playing second fiddle…"

His mood quickly soured as the girl took out a copy of that bloody book and Riley's face turned from despair to delight. He just couldn't get a break, could he?

Checking to see if anyone was watching, Ian approached slowly watching the two of them conversing and carefully making sure he didn't make any sudden movements that could alert Riley that he was there. The kid may be essentially useless but boy could he scream up a storm if he felt threatened enough. Getting caught was definitely not on his priority list for today; staying free was.

"That's a lovely name."

He nodded at people who he passed, smiling at them and giving the odd 'hello' but always keeping his eyes on the two people he was heading towards. Ian ended up stood behind Riley shaking his head as the kid bent down to pick up the bag he'd dropped once the girl had left. It was his fault; all of it; his and Ben's.

"Oh no. That's seven dollars I'll never see again."

"My heart bleeds for you."

The bag dropped again before Riley turned to face him. The kid had shaved the beard off, thank God, since Trinity Church; it had made him look like he hadn't wiped his chin properly, but the clean-shaven thing he had going on made him look more like a child than ever.

"Ian? Fancy seeing you here." Riley was smiling uneasily. "Shouldn't you be-?"

"In prison?" thanks for the reminder jackass.

"Yeah."

He watched as the kid looked him up and down, the uneasy smile looking a bit more forced as he did so. Probably having flashbacks about the time Ian had threatened to eviscerate Riley using his precious laptop. When Riley had asked how that was even possible Ian had offered to give a demonstration, at which point the techno-whiz had gone very pale, extremely silent and quietly packed up his stuff before making a hasty exit.

"So…how ya been?"

What a stupid question. What kind of an answer did he think he was gonna get? 'Things have been all rainbows and teddy bears since you and Mr. Righteous ratted me out the cops.'

"In prison." It was short and true. "And yourself?"

"Not bad." The boy's eyes flicked to something over Ian's shoulder, no doubt hoping to signal someone; didn't matter.

"How'd my treasure work out got you?"

"Well…" Riley laughed nervously again. There was no doubt that Ian's presence was unnerving the boy. "Actually…"

"I hear you have a book. What's it called? How to be useless?" Riley took a step back and Ian moved to keep the distance between them. The kid was getting edgier by the minute and Ian didn't see why he couldn't have a little fun. "How to be taken for granted?"

"Ben!" The kid's voice cracked as he called past Ian. "BEN!"

"How to be a second-rate sidekick?"

"BE-!" Ian smashed Riley in the jaw and watched as the boy crumpled to the concrete floor; there was a satisfying smack as he made contact.

Ian let out a sigh of relief. "You have _no_ idea how long I've wanted to do that."

As Riley hit the floor a woman screamed and those nearby flinched back; one or two of them even ran. There went his freedom. There would probably be ten minutes before cops or FBI or some sort of security guards or something turned up to haul him back to jail. If he left now he could get away scot-free.

There was a noise at his feet as Riley spat blood onto the ground beside him and Ian decided he'd waited too long for this opportunity. Every other time he'd had the chance to stop this piss-taking, sarcastic, little brat Ben had stepped in the way and said that they needed him. Because the treasure then took priority, Ian had stepped down but now there was no reason to hold back; no one to stop him. If he could get in a few good punches on Riley then he could put up with however long they put him in prison for.

"Get up!" He grabbed Riley and roughly hauled him so he was standing upright. There was a graze on the kid's cheek which was bleeding slightly and blood was dripping from the corner of his mouth. He'd waited too long. "You were always weak."

Smashing the kid with his other fist was so unbelievably fulfilling that he was able to ignore the pain in his right hand as Riley went straight down. The boy cried out as he hit the ground and everyone flinched back again.

Every threat Ian had made passed through his head. He could carry out them all…well actually the evisceration with Riley's laptop was beyond Ian's capabilities but that was beside the point. The point was-- Riley started choking on the blood trickling into his throat.

"Come on, Riley." There was a whine to Ian's voice as he smacked his boots into the side of Riley's jaw forcing him onto his side.

People were scattering away now; only a few didn't move, frozen in horror at what was happening before them.

"What's the matter Riley? Nothing clever to say?" Seven minutes left and he was going to milk every moment for all its worth. "No insulting jibes? No witty comebacks?"

The boy raised his head off the ground and turned slightly towards him. "I knew if you worked on your people skills…" the rest of the comment was lost as Riley let his head fall to the ground again.

The British guy had always known himself to have a strong punch and kick and Riley was practically made of paper; it was just too easy. Shaw had suggested the kid go to a gym but Riley had simply made a comment about how that would kill him; if only he'd known.

Ian's anger flared as he remembered what had happened to Shaw in the underground stairway. That was their fault too. If they'd just done things his way in the first place Shaw might not have died. Just another thing to add to the 'why I hate Ben and Riley' list.

His hand reached to his belt and pulled out the gun he had stowed there. If this was going to be the time he didn't hold back he'd have to make it count. When he cocked it Riley let out a small moan.

"I told Ben you were a waste of time." He straightened his aim on the geek's head; he wasn't going to mess this up.

"You were wrong."

Ian rolled his eyes. Right on cue.

"Hello Ben." Riley's knight in shining armour come to stop Ian before things got too out of hand; a little later than normal. He was stood three feet to their side, perfectly visible by Riley in his less-than-healthy state. No doubt the kid thought he was saved.

"Ian." Ben was looking at him not at his friend. Ian's hand hadn't moved from its position even though his concentration was on the new 'party guest'. "You okay Riley?"

As Riley opened his mouth to answer, Ian rammed him in the small of his back with his size nines and the kid cried out. This really was too much fun.

"Goddamit Ian!" Ben still made no move towards them, his eyes flicking every once in a while to the gun in Ian's hands.

"Oh, I'm sorry." So not sorry at all and guessing from Ben's scowl, he knew it too. "Heard you found a new treasure."

"What d'you want?"

"I'm not quite sure, but finally shutting this son of a bitch up has been rather satisfying." It was true and no one could really know how great it felt for his smile to be fuelled by Riley's pain.

Ben's gaze finally went down to his fallen comrade as the boy began to wheeze uneasily. "Let him go."

"Or what Ben? You gonna turn me in?" Ben's face didn't change but Ian could see that was what he was threatening. Such typical Ben behaviour. "Well guess what…I don't care."

"Ian." The historian moved towards him his hand outstretched. Four minutes.

"Not another move or I'll make sure attempted is taken off the murder charge." Ben stopped. Clever Ben had always known when Ian was deadly serious.

"You can't do this." His voice was calm but Ian ignored it hearing the real tone beneath it, the one of panic and fear. Ben was terrified and floundering for something, anything he could do.

"Why not? What have I got to lose?" he bent down and seized the ragdoll that was Riley by the scruff of his neck. "And what's to stop me from shooting him?" Riley flinched as Ian pressed the gun into the side of his forehead. "What's to stop me putting a bullet through his head right here?"

"Leave Riley out of this!"

"Why, Ben? You're the one who brought him into this. You're the reason he's here today." There was so much more in that phrase.

'_You_ got him involved. _You_ kept him around. _YOU_ made me what I am. It's because of _YOU_ I'm doing this. This is all _YOUR_ fault!'

Ben must have picked up on it because he stepped back, hands reached out in surrender; stupid idiot, like that would stop him.

"Just let him go, Ian."

"What you gonna do Ben?" There wasn't an answer. Ian breathed in through his nose, faking contemplation. "You know what? I think I'll keep hold of him." And he slammed his hand holding the gun into the boy's gut forcing him to bend double.

"Riley!" Ben cried out.

"You see, Ben, you're trying to bargain with me, but I'm afraid you have nothing I want."

SMACK!

He staggered back, seeing stars as the kid slammed back into his face. The trickling blood that accompanied the crunch of bone told Ian that his nose was broken.

"Shit." Everything around him was a bit blurry but he quickly shook it away once he realised that he'd lost his grip on Riley. "Shit!"

The whiz-kid was running towards Ben, no doubt with a cheesy grin plastered across his idiotic mug; both of them probably thinking they'd beaten him. It wasn't enough to dupe him, play him for an idiot, barter with him, trick him and have him arrested; they had to keep pushing him and pushing him. Every frickin' time. Well he'd had enough.

'Eat this.'

He raised the gun and let off two shots.

The first missed; he heard it embedding itself into the concrete to the side of Ben's foot and the historian didn't even flinch.

Riley seemed to trip as he ran and Ben reached out to catch him too late. Stupid kid; couldn't even escape without tripping over his own feet. Ian didn't even realise anything was wrong until Ben flipped Riley over.

Shit.

The front of the white pinstriped shirt the kid was wearing was very red and Ben's face filled with horror as he watched Riley grasp at his side.

"Aah!"

Oh shit!

The kid began shaking with panic and clutching awkwardly at it; would probably have begun clawing at it if Ben hadn't grabbed his wrists to restrain them.

"No, Riley! Leave it! You'll just make it worse!"

Shit! Shit, shit, shit!!

The gun slipped from his grasp and clattered to the floor; no one even noticed.

"Ian?" Abigail was approaching from where she and Ben must have been before the historian rushed over to his friend's aid. Her quizzical eyes looked at him. "Why-?" Riley cried out again, gaining Abigail's attention. "Riley!"

Ian looked at Riley's face; their voices were too quiet for him to hear clearly but the kid seemed to be joking about something. Ben was panicking, Abigail had started crying which meant they could see it too; the kid was fading fast. Guessing by the growing size of red on his shirt it wouldn't be long before he would be unable to reply to their comments.

"You just gotta stay awake!" Never before had the Brit heard Ben talk like that, like he was utterly terrified there was nothing he could do. Benjamin Gates was not a man to give up easily, if anyone knew that it was Ian, but the man before him looked beaten, broken and close to tears.

"I didn…I-I didn't…" Ian couldn't say it, it was true but he just couldn't force his mouth to make the right shapes so he could finish that sentence; he knew if he did Ben wouldn't believe him anyway. Sirens were going off nearby; time was up, the cops would be there any minute; he had to get out!

'What was that you were thinking earlier, Ian?' a niggling voice in his head said as he ran. 'Something about not being a monster?'

_Oh shut up!_ He ran into the trees hoping that the close density of them would slow down who followed him. _He deserved it._


	3. Ben

**Disclaimer:** you only gotta get the feel of this fic to know National Treasure isn't mine. But I guess for legality purposes; characters and concept and so on and so forth are so not mine.

**A/N:** Wait! No! I don't want it to be over! But it is my fellow fic-readers. It's been great writing this and I wish it didn't have to finish but it has been a bit of a strain (three school nights of staying up till 1am in order to satisfy my need for proper progress on this Side (soooooo worth it)) The final Side of Three Sides is finished; the trio is done; the trifecta completed. All those annoying questions that I left you with, including the life or death (for me, eep!) question of is Riley alright, are finally answered. Just done the final word count using my lovely pc and without the disclaimer, a/n and title, this Side is about 6,400 words, so as I predicted it's about the size of the other two Sides combined but goes beyond the attack and into a lot of 'detail'; you'll see what I mean, at least I hope so. Just gotta mention that the feedback for Ian's Side was a lot better than I had dared hoped; seems a fair few people want to believe he is a good man and I think I ought to apologise to those people in advance. Now, looking back at this Side it could easily been a fic in itself but I don't care. This is how I've done it and I don't care. Now, while I was writing, I got a bit muddled with what happened where so I split it up into the different parts of what I wanted to happen so that's why each part has a sort of title. Hopefully not too confusing, if it is let me know and I'll sort it out. Now here's the WARNING! This gets pretty damn angsty and I had to stop writing at some parts because I was starting to cry and writing while crying is not a good thing to do, believe me! Now it could be that I'm just really soft and nothing in here has that effect on you but just as a suggestion: having a box/pack of tissues handy will not be a move you'll easily regret. So gonna do my farewell thank-yous: thank you for reviewing and/or reading this, the feedback and response has been better than I dared hoped; thank you if you favourited or alerted it as well, I really appreciate it. I feel confident enough to give you an 'enjoy' for this Side but don't hold me to it okay? It's not a binding agreement.

Btw, would you believe I only 'discovered' National Treasure three weeks ago today? ¦D

**Three Sides: Side Three**

**Ben**

**----------**

**The Incident**

------------

"So…" her smile spread as she left it for him to figure out.

Ben looked at her. He had missed Abigail; he had more than missed Abigail. She was a complicated person, always had been ever since he'd met her as 'Paul Brown'. Both of them had a passion for history, both of them loved to find and preserve it for mankind and both his mom and dad loved her. The two of them just worked; were like two pieces of one whole. He'd been hopeful they'd get back together because he honestly couldn't see his future without her.

The two of them leaned into each other and kissed just as the fireworks began to go off above Mount Rushmore. There was no need to say anything, no need to figure it out, it was obvious. She wanted to give them another go, to give him another chance and Ben Gates had never been one to look a gift horse in the mouth.

"Ben!"

Riley. Trust him to ruin a moment like this. Well he'd just have to wait; Ben was busy making up with Abigail and whatever it was the computer whiz had found, be it amazing souvenir or some random and complicated computer related object, the boy would have to wait.

"BEN!"

A second time? Louder as well. It must be something "really" good. Frustrated, he pulled away from Abigail.

"He's a big boy you know." She always seemed to know what he was thinking which he wasn't ashamed to admit freaked him out sometimes.

"You know Riley. He won't shut up unless I-"

"BE-!" A sickening smack echoed off the hills followed by a high-pitched scream.

"-go…and find…out…what…" the sentence became lost as his worry grew.

The last yell had been cut off, that's what he'd been doing; Riley wasn't calling Ben over to see something, he was _yelling_ for Ben. But why?

"What is it?" asked Abigail, obviously worried by Ben's lack of finishing a sentence.

Ben gazed across the crowd and saw a few people stumbling over themselves running from the souvenir stall where he'd last seen Riley. His brow furrowed; knowing Riley, the kid would be wherever they'd run from. Turning back momentarily, he pointed at Abigail.

"Don't move."

"What?" If there was one thing Abigail hated it was being told what to do but Ben was already walking off. "Ben, what is going on?"

"Riley probably got on the wrong side of someone and if having a bit of trouble, is all." He'd turned and was calling to her while walking backwards, a smile on his face. "I'll go help him out." He indicated over his shoulder.

"Okay." She wasn't convinced, her expression was screaming it, but she obediently stayed where she was. "You be careful."

"I will. Love you."

The 'love you' was probably a bit too much; she'd know there was something up now for sure. There was no way she couldn't know with his over cheery attitude and quick answer. The truth was, he didn't know what was happening but the signs and the distinct feeling of unease growing in the pit of his stomach were not in any way reassuring him and were telling him that it involved Riley.

Another smack echoed through the air and gained the attention of more people who turned their heads in curiosity. The echoing of the sound made it difficult to pinpoint where exactly it was coming from and had he not seen more people running towards the direction he'd come from he would have had no idea if he was going the right way or not. Getting closer he saw the familiar outline of Ian Howe.

Ben's brow furrowed. Sadusky had assured him that Ian would be in prison for a very long time but Ben knew that if there was any way of breaking out Ian would find it and use it. It wasn't that he wasn't in prison that threw Ben; it was that he was _here_. Ian wasn't stupid, he knew that if he went to highly packed public places there was surely going to be someone who recognised him and he'd end up caught.

The felon was talking to something on the floor; or some_one_.

"I told Ben you were a waste of time." Ben shoved his way through the last few people as he caught a glimpse of the gun in Ian's hand.

"You were wrong." He looked Ian square on but his look wasn't reciprocated; his former associate hadn't turned from the huddled form of Riley that Ben could see out the corner of his eye. Ben wanted to look at his friend but he was waiting for Ian to look at him, silently daring him with his eyes.

"Hello Ben." Ian was laughing slightly as he turned towards him, but the weapon didn't falter from its target.

"Ian." He chanced a quick glance at Riley and took a deep breath to calm himself. The glimpse hadn't given him much of a chance to take everything in but the kid had blood on his cheek and there was a slight spray of blood to his side. "You okay Riley?"

Riley's mouth opened to answer but a cry of pain came out instead; Ian had kicked him in the back.

"Goddamit Ian!" His eyes flicked to the gun, afraid to move any closer; there was no doubt that if he was pushed Ian would shoot Riley.

"Oh I'm sorry!" It was difficult to remain still when Ian looked so smug and constantly on the edge of laughing. "Heard you found a new treasure."

"What d'you want?" There was no point throwing pointless banter at each other, neither of them really wanted it. Besides, it wouldn't be long before Abigail would come and investigate and there wasn't a chance that he was going to let her get involved in this as well, not that he could stop her if she decided to.

"I'm not quite sure, but finally shutting this son of a bitch up has been rather satisfying." A smile grew across Ian's face and, looking away, Ben knew he wasn't lying.

Instead his eyes fell on Riley; the kid looked broken and beaten. He was all but curling up in a ball as his breathing became wheezy and panicked; it was killing Ben to see him like that. "Let him go." The conviction was taken from his voice as he watched Riley.

"Or what Ben? You gonna turn me in?" Ben didn't move, didn't make any indication of what he was planning. In all honesty he was drawing a blank; all he had was to talk Ian into letting Riley go and both of them knew that Hell would freeze over long before that plan worked. "Well guess what…I don't care."

He took a step forward, reaching out for the gun hoping that his suspicion was wrong. "Ian."

"Not another move or I'll make sure attempted is taken off the murder charge." There was a sinking feeling in his stomach as he stopped.

"You can't do this!" It wasn't really a response; he didn't have one and it was only a matter of time before things really started to get out of hand.

"Why not? What have I got to lose?" Ben watched as Riley was roughly hoisted from his position on the floor and held up by Ian. "And what's to stop me from shooting him?" He stopped breathing as Ian shoved the gun against the side of Riley's head. "What's to stop me putting a bullet through his head right here?"

"Leave Riley out of this!"

"Why, Ben? You're the one who brought him into this. You're the reason he's here today."

'I know!' he would have screamed it if he thought for a moment that Ian would believe him. 'I know.'

Instead he took a step back raising his palms to show he didn't mean any harm.

"Just let him go, Ian." Shouting hadn't worked and neither would reason, but at least the latter wouldn't alarm Ian.

"What you gonna do Ben?"

He had no response; what _was_ he going to do? He saw Riley look away from him; what was the kid thinking? Maybe he was realising the same thing as Ben; there was nothing he could do, and Ian knew it.

"You know what? I think I'll keep hold of him." The butt of Ian's gun was thrust into Riley's gut making the kid bend double in agony.

"Riley!"

"You see, Ben, you're trying to bargain with me, but I'm afraid you have nothing I want."

Ben was contemplating giving Ian a punch in the eye when-

SMACK!

-Riley straightened up quickly, smashing Ian in the face with the back of his head.

"Riley!" he reached out an arm, beckoning him over as Ian staggered with the impact and let go of the kid's arm. If he recovered quickly enough, he'd grab Riley again and they would end up back at square one, except Ian would be a lot more pissed off.

Relief was plastered over the kid's face as he ran towards Ben.

In his peripheral vision, Ben saw Ian recover from the attack and raise his gun.

A shot landed in the concrete to the side of Ben's foot and he was thankful that Ian wasn't as good a shot as he used to claim. It was short-lived.

Riley's legs crumpled beneath him and he'd almost hit the ground before Ben realised Ian had let off _two shots_. He reached out but was far too late. Straight away, Ben was on his knees and turning the boy over, partially lifting him up into his lap.

He was conscious, Ben didn't know if that was a good sign or not, and the boy's face was screwed up in pain. An ominous red patch was soaking through his white shirt and quickly spreading across his stomach. Riley's hands quickly found it.

"Aah!" The boy began to shake with panic, clutching desperately at the wound but flinching back as each time it hurt. Less than a few seconds passed before Riley's hands were covered in his own blood.

"No Riley!" Ben roughly grabbed at Riley's wrists as he continued to grasp at his side. "Leave it!" The boy's arms were tense as he struggled to clutch at it. "You'll just make it worse."

Someone was stood behind him. Please don't be Abigail!

"Ian?" Ben cursed inwardly as he heard the familiar voice. "Why-?" A shiver of pain ran through the boy as he tried to breathe in, causing him to cry out. "Riley!"

"The bullet…" Ben found each gasp horrific, worried each one might be the boy's last. "Bullet went through…"

That was good. It went through so there wasn't a bullet stuck inside him. It wasn't bad, Riley would be fine because no bullet was good…right? Warmth was seeping into the knees of his jeans and Ben knew that it was anything but good. Riley was losing blood from his front _and_ back.

"You're gonna be fine."

"Such…" Riley's laugh was too weak, "a bad liar, Ben."

Ben could see Riley's injuries clearly now but he wasn't bothered by them; what was a graze, a cut and a possible black eye in the face of what the boy was fighting now?

"Aah!" Riley wasn't breathing properly, hungrily gulping air as though it was going to run out suddenly or his lungs weren't expanding to full capacity. "Ben!" Riley reached out and Ben shifted his hand on that wrist so he could hold reassure the boy.

"I'm here! I'm right here!" He didn't move as Riley snatched at his hand and squeezed it hard. Was he even aware he was doing it?

He could feel Abigail over his shoulder and wished she didn't have to see this; he wished _he_ didn't have to see this.

"Look at me, Riley!" The boy's eyes snapped up to him and Ben's breath caught in his throat as he saw the glazed look in them. No doubt he was just a blur. "You're gonna be fine." He wasn't entirely sure if he was saying that for Riley's benefit or his own.

"Yeah. And there isn't really a map on the back of the Declaration of Independence." Either way neither one of them was buying it; they both knew what was happening. He was slipping.

There was a hand on Ben's shoulder. "Cell phone!" Abigail demanded of what was left of the crowd that had been surrounding them.

"Ben." Riley's neck began to go limp and fall to the side.

Oh no!

The hand grasping his was losing its grip and his other hand had stopped struggling against Ben's restraint.

No, no, no!

"Riley!" immediately he let Riley's wrist go and started harshly tapping his cheek as the boy's eyes began to close. "Stay with me! Come on, Riley!"

'Stay awake! Don't go to sleep! Don't!'

Little by little, every part of Riley was going limp; except for his hand; that was still clinging desperately to Ben's. The historian put his arm around the boy's chest to shift him further up into his lap as his eyes closed.

"Come on! Stay with me buddy!"

"Ben…" it was barely a whisper but it sent a shiver through Ben.

"You just gotta stay awake." The tears he was holding back broke into his voice. He didn't care how scared he seemed, how weak or how stupid he sounded. Riley had to stay awake. He HAD to! "Open your eyes, Riley! Look at me!"

Riley didn't move; didn't make a sound.

"Riley!"

Ben shook him but the boy remained lifeless.

"Riley?"

**---------**

**Aftermath**

**---------**

Ben was sat on a small wall near to the information point watching the paramedics. The flashing blue lights of the ambulance kept obscuring his view of the gurney as they loaded Riley inside.

From what he could see there was a bloodied oxygen mask strapped to the kid's face and someone further inside the van shouted something about having to stop the blood.

Ben's eyes fell to the knees of his jeans, caked in blood; Riley's blood.

One of them approached him as the doors closed. It was a young girl, her long brown hair was tied in up in a simple ponytail that brushed the shoulders of her high-visibility jacket.

She said something like his friend would be perfectly fine and there was nothing to worry about. In fact, she and some of her colleagues were a bit more concerned with _his_ well-being.

She started asking him some questions; they sounded to be standard health questions but Ben didn't know how to answer any of them.

How did he feel?

Was he alright?

Had he been hit?

Was he in any pain?

After she asked each question she waited to give him time to answer but he wasn't even looking at her, watching the ambulance carrying his friend drive off instead.

Had he seen what had happened?

He'd been found holding the limp, bleeding body of his young friend, kneeling in his friend's blood and trying to get him to wake up. The paramedics had had to physically uncurl Riley's fingers which were still clinging tight to Ben's hand so they could take a look at him properly while Ben was moved out of the way; and this girl was asking him if he'd seen what had happened?

Ten minutes later he was in the back of a car. The girl was driving him to the hospital. There was a man in the front passenger, it was his car, who kept turning in his seat and reassuring Ben that there was absolutely nothing to worry about and things like this hardly ever became fatal. Ben only really heard the 'hardly ever'. There was still a possibility.

Twenty minutes later he was sat in a private hospital room. The girl had shown him into here and suggested that he take some time to recover. Every so often someone would come in and talk to him momentarily before they left.

Half an hour after Riley had left Mount Rushmore in the ambulance, Abigail entered room. She rushed straight into his arms and hugged him, burying her head in his shoulder. He hugged her back, unbelievably hard.

There was nothing, absolutely nothing. Most of what they said didn't make it to his brain. It was drowned out by the horrible gnawing pain inside and it didn't matter what the officers or the doctor or even Abigail said; the pain wasn't going away.

He wasn't stupid. They'd fetched Abigail hoping that she would get a response from him but she didn't ask him any questions. They just stood there, locked in a tight embrace.

A cough at the door caused Abigail to draw back from him. It was the doctor; he signalled for her to come over; not Ben, Abigail.

She leaned in and they kissed momentarily; it wasn't like earlier; it was colder.

When at the door, the doctor whispered something to Abigail who nodded a few times before coming back over to him.

Ben tried to listen as Abigail spoke, really focused on what she was saying, he knew he wouldn't take it in otherwise. She mentioned Riley; she looked so sad each time she did. He was being taken into surgery; the bullet had gone through…one of his organs and they needed to operate…now. She was going to surgery with Riley because somebody had to be there for him; he couldn't go in on his own even if he didn't know it.

She was crying as she left.

Oh God, what he would have given to cry about this, to let it all out; all the pain and the fear in a tirade of tears. All he wanted to do was curl up on the bed and pretend none of this was happening and to cry.

To cry…

But he was too numb…

They weren't going to let him see Riley; they hadn't said anything about it but he knew they wouldn't.

Honestly, there was a part of him that actually believed he was going to wake up in a cold sweat in his bed at home with Abigail. Then he'd pick up the cell and dial Riley who'd moan at being woken at 4 am despite only having gone to bed about ten minutes beforehand.

A chuckle forced its way out his lips…

But it wasn't going to happen.

Shock, Ben had heard one of the doctors say to someone, possibly him, when they'd been in earlier, not taking it in. That was why they wouldn't let him see Riley; why he was here instead of going with Abigail. The diagnosis felt right but the treatment was all wrong.

He couldn't tell them though.

He didn't sleep that night.

He wished he could cry.

**---**

**Ian**

**---**

Two days had passed.

Ben waited and, staring at the wall opposite, his mind was lost in thought as he sat in the small make-shift interview room that had been hastily set up in the hospital. The officer who had been asking Ben questions had been called out by a doctor barely two minutes beforehand.

Everyone kept asking him the same questions, ones he didn't want to answer and more he heard them, the harder it got.

What was it that had happened?

Could he think of any possible motive?

Had he received any threats from anyone?

The officer entered the room and sat opposite him again; said something about taking a statement when he was feeling better. Ben could go back to the room he'd stayed in the last few nights. Abigail _had_ asked for him to be moved to an open ward but the doctors had voiced their fear on the effect it would have on Ben. He still didn't understand their concern; Riley had been shot not him.

Ben sighed.

It was a lie. He knew precisely why they were worried, why Abigail was spending so much time visiting Riley instead of him. When she spoke to Riley he _couldn't_ respond; Ben _wouldn't_.

Not a single word had passed through his lips since Riley had lost consciousness. To begin with everyone had attributed it to the sudden shock and worry but his nerves had managed to settle a bit after an hour or two left to himself; Ben still hadn't said anything though. _That_ was why the interview was being postponed.

He wasn't sure why he was talking but Ben was fairly sure it all hinged on one thing. He still wasn't allowed to see Riley.

They'd actually told him now. Best to wait till he's better, they'd said. Abigail agreed with them and had spoken to him endlessly the day before in an attempt to get something from him. It hadn't worked.

He stopped by an open door as he passed by. Tentatively, he took a step in, trying not to startle the nurse stood in there. Laid beneath the covers of the bed was the last person he wanted to see right now looking very much the worse for wear.

There were various cuts and bruises covering Ian's face, especially where his forehead met his blond hair; his nose was swollen and his shoulder was tightly strapped in bandages.

He'd been there since early yesterday morning according to the nurse. A driver had hit him as he dashed into the road from a series of trees breaking his right leg, a couple of ribs, dislocating his shoulder and knocking him out cold. The doctors were baffled by the broken nose though.

Riley must have slammed into him pretty hard to break the Brit's nose.

If Ian had been standing, awake and alert, the historian would have slammed the Brit in the face over and over again until he was dragged off of him. But he didn't have to; shouldn't want to. He wasn't Ian, didn't get enjoyment at the suffering of others, but he felt satisfied that Ian hadn't got away clean. By the time Ian awoke the cops would know he'd been the one to attack Riley; his former associate wasn't going anywhere.

Once, when they'd been friends, Ben and Ian had been discussing different beliefs and when asked what he believed in Ian had simply said, 'What goes around comes around.'

Ironic.

Ben stood there for over ten minutes taking it in. He wanted to remember this; wanted this moment to be forever ingrained into his memory; wanted to be able to tell this to Riley when the boy woke up.

**-------------**

**Family Support**

**-------------**

It had been a week.

Having been released from the hospital two days previously Ben was staying at the hotel that he, Abigail and Riley had been staying in for their planned visit. He still hadn't said anything and Abigail couldn't always hide her worry from him anymore.

Today his parents were coming to visit before swinging by the hospital. Neither of them really knew the boy but they were going to visit him. Sometimes Ben felt he had the best parents in the world.

Ben and Abigail met them in the hotel's dining area before they sat down and Emily proceeded to tell them of some of her team's latest discoveries in Cibola. Her voice was fast and excited as she spoke enthusiastically about it but her words were just washing over Ben.

Patrick excused himself and asked politely for Ben to join him. Reluctantly he followed. Out of the corner of his eye he'd noticed his father glaring at him angrily whenever his mom turned to Abigail. There was a father-son talk coming and Ben had seen it bubbling underneath the surface of the tension growing between them.

Sure enough, when they were out of the ladies' earshot his dad rounded on him.

What the hell was he playing at?

Did he have _any_ idea how afraid everyone was for him?

How could he do this to his parents?

How could he do this to _Abigail_?

Wasn't she going through enough already?

Did he _want_ her to feel like she'd lost him as well as Riley?

Ben stared at his father. He was sick of questions. Everyone was always asking him questions. **Always** with the questions; and always the ones he couldn't answer.

His dad glared back at him waiting for a response. What did the man want? For Ben to magically forget all the mess that was still going through his head? For him to forget that, as far as he was aware, his friend was dying in hospital?

He lowered his head. That wasn't what his dad wanted; he knew it. Patrick wanted to hear his son say something; that was all. But every time Ben opened his mouth to say something the words would stick in his throat.

Patrick didn't understand. No one did.

**-----**

**Riley**

**-----**

Two weeks.

There had been much discussion among doctors and second and third and forth opinions had been sought, but eventually Ben had been given permission. Today was the day. He was going to see Riley.

Abigail had spoken to Ben several times over making sure she explained perfectly clearly that he may not like what he saw; it may be a bit much; but he didn't have to worry because Riley was doing absolutely fine.

She led the way into the room and beckoned him in when he hesitated at the door.

Walking in, Ben had a clear view of Riley lain on the bed. His dark-haired friend was linked up to a heart monitor and connected to various drips through various tubes. Then there was the tube that ran into Riley's nose, no doubt feeding him oxygen. The kid's face was peaceful laid back on the pillow.

Ben stopped in the doorway.

He'd been wrong. He didn't want to see Riley like this.

It was wrong.

It was downright unnatural.

For one thing, Riley didn't sleep on his back, he'd learnt that when they were staying in that arctic village after the Charlotte incident; the kid either curled up in a ball or spread out taking up far too much room for someone so skinny.

The constant beeping from the heart monitor did little to reassure him either. Why did he need one? And why was he hooked up to so many tubes?

It was too much.

Abigail grasped at his hand reassuringly just as he was about to turn and run. Ben had to remember he wasn't alone in this.

She guided him to the chair at the side of Riley's bed and gently pushed him into it. She murmured something about him needing to do this before the doctor entered.

The two of them began talking but Ben wasn't paying them any attention. He'd catch the odd word like 'frantic' and 'ripping' and thought himself glad to be unaware of what they spoke.

Riley didn't like hospitals; although Ben had never met anyone who didn't dislike the thought of being in hospital. He'd said something about them smelling weird (kid had a funny sense of smell) and also being too clean. To Riley such cleanliness was unnatural; it had been evident in the state of Riley's apartment when he'd first met Ben; mess everywhere with eight day old pizzas festering in a corner.

The boy was practically white and looked like he hadn't changed position in far too long.

'He shouldn't be that still.'

Riley was always moving, or at least doing something unusual; like that time Ben had found him sitting on the couch with his head where his legs ought to be and his legs in the air, while reading a magazine. He just wasn't one to just lie there. Seeing him like this was horrible but still Ben couldn't cry.

Ben heard the doctor say his name and turned instinctively. He focused on the doctor trying desperately to take in what was being said.

Someone had been asking for him. Who? Riley! Kept saying Ben's name over and over, calling out for him.

The doctor said something about Riley not realising where he was to begin with.

He felt his gut twist uncomfortably as his head dropped into his hands.

He felt Abigail squeeze his shoulder affectionately but it did nothing to alleviate his pain.

Riley had been _calling _for him;and he hadn'tbeen there. Kid must've been terrified.

Silence descended upon them and relief slowly flooded through Ben's chest.

Riley had woken up.

Alright, he'd been alone and crying out, but it was a sign that Riley was alive, which seeing the boy as he was wasn't.

Ben went to thank the doctor; the words caught in his chest as it tightened. He couldn't say it, it didn't matter how much he wanted to; the words wouldn't come.

Riley had woken up.

**----------**

**Discharged**

**----------**

Four weeks.

Riley had left the hospital a week after waking up. Apart from a slight limp and a cut by his ear, the kid was back to his normal sarcastic self. Ben threw the last of his clothes into the duffel bag. Now that this whole ordeal was behind them they were returning to Washington DC almost a month after they'd originally intended to leave. Abigail had flown back a few days ago desperate to return to her job; the boys were driving back.

His gaze rose to the window. The historian had thought that when Riley was awake and out of the hospital, things would be alright. They weren't though.

Ben still hadn't said a word.

It wasn't that he hadn't tried; every time he did the words stuck in his throat and he'd choke on them. It had been like this ever since the whole incident had happened except now he had didn't have his worry for Riley to distract him from it.

Abigail hadn't admitted it to his face but Ben had overheard her confess to his mother that she was worried he would never speak again; and, in all honesty, he was worried about it too.

Riley entered the room and leant against the wall while Ben zipped up his bag.

"You ready?" his familiar demeanour was understandably dampened somewhat compared to standard Riley, but it was definitely Riley.

Ben hoisted the bag onto his shoulder.

"Come on, then."

Riley went to pick up the car while Ben checked out.

Climbing into the passenger seat, he wondered how they would survive the awkwardness that was sure to arise.

He looked out the window but didn't pay much attention to where they were going until he realised Riley was going the wrong way.

"Yeah." Riley said as Ben looked at him. "We're taking a little detour."

* * *

**A Cure for Almost Anything**

* * *

"Here." Riley held out a strawberry ice cream cone to Ben who raised an eyebrow at it. "Just take it." He held a chocolate one in his other hand; trust Riley to go for the one with the most sugar. "It'll help." Ben took the ice cream and watched as Riley sat next to him, starting to eat his.

They were sat on the wall Ben had sat on as Riley had been taken away by the ambulance and the historian's gaze fell to his knees instinctively.

He expected Riley to say something but the kid just licked his ice cream. Ben did notice though that his eyes flicked to the blood-stained concrete about ten feet in front of where they sat. It had been scrubbed pretty furiously by the looks of it and was mostly faded but there was still a distinct outlines that was still darker than everything else around it.

"Brain freeze!" Riley's hand shot to his head as he screwed up his eyes. "Ow! Ow! Ow! Ow!"

Ben laughed. It was good to have him back.

Riley lowered his ice cream for a moment.

"When I was thirteen, for some odd reason, I decided I'd had enough of my family. Figured I'd run away; live on the streets or something." Riley was staring at the stained concrete. "I was found six miles away from my house, walking round in a daze seven days later." He turned to Ben. "Apparently I'd been attacked or something and left in a state of shock to wander the streets." He took another lick of his ice cream. "I don't remember anything that happened that week but I found it difficult interacting with people after that. That's why my mom signed me up for computer club; she was hoping I would make friends. Instead, it was discovered I was prime geek material with a natural ability for computers."

Ben felt his own ice cream begin to run over his fingers as it slowly melted, so he lifted it up to his mouth and took a bite. It was cold, but sweet. Riley was always good at choosing things like that for Ben; knew what he wanted better than Ben did.

"If I hadn't tried to run away all that time ago, I never would have met you and this would never have happened." Riley was speaking between mouthfuls of cone. "So you could say it was my fault." He caught a glimpse of Ben's frustrated look. "Oh don't worry; I blame Ian all the way. My point is that it isn't _your_ fault."

Riley looked directly into Ben's eyes and he could see the kid really believed it.

"Ian would've shot me whether you were there or not."

Ben took another mouthful of ice cream to distract himself.

"We're the only ones who know what happened, Ben." Riley's voice was serious and his eyes were distant. "Lord knows, I haven't spoken about it and you haven't spoken about _any_thing."

He went silent for a while watching Ben's reaction.

_This_ was why they were here; back where it all began.

"Anyone can understand what was going through my head at the time but for you… We need to talk about it." His face was resolute and Ben sighed. "I get it if you don't want to, hell _I _don't want to, but the doctors all seem to think that it's something about that night which is making you un_willing_ rather than un_able_ to talk. And, really, I'd rather talk to _you_ about it because _you_ were there."

They sat in silence.

Ben wanted to talk about it; had done for a long time; he just wasn't sure he could. Every single time he'd tried to talk, the words just wouldn't get past his throat.

"When I saw Ian I nearly wet myself." Ben looked at Riley and struggled not to laugh. "I'm just trying to start the ball rolling."

Ben thought about it.

What was it about that night that got him so upset?

Everything.

What _specifically_?

He opened his mouth several times in an attempt to voice it but the words stuck in his throat just like every other time. Riley, meanwhile, sat there patiently waiting for Ben to say what he needed.

Ben hadn't thought about it since the night it had happened, not even when he'd seen Ian. He took a deep breath; he _wanted_ to tell Riley.

"I-it took…" his voice cracked from being so underused. "…the doctors…" he stopped, half-expecting Riley to try and hurry him up but his friend just sat there patiently. Ben took a deep breath. "Four hours…to convince me…" he didn't want to say it; he wasn't sure that he could anymore. He didn't want to say it; but he needed to. "…to wash my…to wash the blood…wash _your_ blood…off…my hands."

A tear rolled down his cheek and splatted onto his hand that was clasped around the ice cream. He felt Riley place an arm round his shoulders.

"Why?" it was quiet and non-invasive. He was saying Ben could take his time.

"I don't know." Ben shrugged; his chest was tightening with the threat of tears. "It was all…all I had. The blood on my hands. That was all I had left." The ice cream slipped from his hands as he began to shake with quiet sobs. The words were coming more easily now; everything he hadn't said was cascading out all trying to be said at once. "You'd been shot. You were shaking. You were scared; _I_ was scared. One minute you were in my hands and the next you were gone. And I… and I felt…" the rest was lost as he held his head in his hands and the tears began to fall silently onto the sleeves of his jacket.

"It wasn't your fault." Riley said firmly squeezing Ben's shoulders in reassurance.

"But…you…"

"It wasn't your fault."

They sat there, away from prying eyes, Ben silently crying out all the tears he'd held back these past four weeks and inaudibly sobbing out all his fears.

"I just didn't…" he took a shaky breath. "…I never thought Ian would actually _shoot_ you."

"I did." Ben looked up. Riley was staring off into space with a frown on his face. Barely a minute passed before he snapped back. "D'you know what your problem is, Ben?"

"Pray tell."

"You have a hero complex." Ben raised an eyebrow. "You think it's _your_ responsibility to save _everyone_, regardless of who they are or what they've done. And if you 'fail'," he indicated the inverted commas, "_that's_ when your guilt complex kicks in."

Ben shook his head; it was still a bit muddled and he couldn't quite think straight yet. Something about all this stuck out though.

He was talking; he had cried; and the relief was overwhelming.

**-------------------**

**Tax Free… (Epilogue)**

**-------------------**

They'd stopped the night at a small roadside motel and Riley was spread out taking up the whole of one of the room's double beds. Kid tired out pretty easily lately so Ben thought maybe he ought to take over driving tomorrow.

Ben looked through the window, saw Riley shuffle about in his sleep and hoped the kid wouldn't wake up.

He dialled the number and placed the cell to his ear. It rang twice before being answered.

"Benjamin Gates." Said the voice on the other side. "I was beginning to wonder what happened to you."

"There was an…incident." He still had difficulty even mentioning it. It would pass soon enough and he wasn't worried anymore. "I know I have no right to ask you any favours Mr. President, but you see I have this friend who really loves his car…"


End file.
